Unnatural Daydreams
by Lehava Shadowsong
Summary: One woman's unnatural affinity for daydreaming leads her into the arms of the Nightmare King and the company of the Guardians. As she discovers the truth of herself, Time and Death return to the world. A tale of self-discovery, love and the possible end of the World. Rated M for swearing, future violence and smut.
1. Prologue: Time Unknown

**Unnatural Daydreams**

Prologue: Time Unknown

: Claret Amazon

As a mortal I could have never imagined that two hundred years could pass in the blink of an eye. In a sense that mortal and mortal way of thinking died a long time ago, precisely one month, thirty days and two hundred years ago. From the ashes of that woman I came forth without such gratitude of time. For an immortal time holds no swinging pendulum axe to fear and worry over. That's what makes mortals special though, they treasure every fleeting second and hard-won hour, counting up their years with silly celebrations and joking over the gray hair at the temples.

I almost miss it.

That's not why you're here though, is it? You're here to seek inspiration and clarity in that addled pen of yours. Tear down that brick wall that stands between you and those last few sentences of whatever it is that you happen to be working on. Not my fault your wandering thoughts merged with mine as you worry over your remaining sands of time. It's what, an hour until your essay is supposed to be done? Or is it a novel that your publisher is demanding you write a sequel to? I can't remember, nor do I really care at this point. I'm in the thoughts and minds of too many people demanding my silver sand to have a care to waste.

See, it all ties back into Time and Death (if you didn't know, they're twins!), and the Moon. Never forget about the Moon, or the Man in the Moon really, he's a Grade A asshole sometimes and your best friend in other times. Their involvement comes later in this story.

I've never been good at starting things, if you can't tell. Tend to ramble and wander through my thoughts even if I'm in the middle of sharing a really good idea. Sometimes I'll share a bad idea and watch whomever it is receiving it get mad. That's always fun! My kind of fun, not Jack Frost's kind of fun. His is more snowballs and ice skating, not mental torment. Oh, and don't worry about Jack Frost, I'll tell you about him later too. Along with the others: Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny, Santa Claus and Sandman. Don't give me all that crap about you being too old for fairy tales, you're stuck with me until I decide to give you your next idea.

I forgot one other: Pitch Black. The Boogeyman, Nightmare King, the shadow under your bed. Aha, I got your attention I see. Someone's interested in the dark, naughty person! He's not as monstrous as you might think, though he thinks he's all that and a bag of doughnuts most of the time. Hey, don't knock doughnuts, they're awesome. Anyway, Pitch Black... He controls the Night-Mares, and the ones you get when you sleep. Really enjoys his work too, I should know. There have been many nights he keeps me up while he plays with people's fear. It's gotten him exiled to the couch a few times as well.

How do I know him? I'm his wife! His confidante, his best friend if he'd admit it. You'd think after two hundred years, one month and thirty days the guy would finally say it. Never had a wedding or anything, but I've never seen any other immortal have one so I guess it's a mortal thing.

What? No, I'm not here to give you nightmares and I'm not insane! At least I don't think I am. On the topic of nightmares, that's not my job and Pitch would throw a fit. Oh... I guess I never introduced myself.

I'm a Muse. That's the reason for the silver sand and the floating. Nobody else can see me but you because you need my help now. I bother those people who need help with ideas, mostly for writing. I'm the only one as well. Greek mythology has nine muses and if they exist I've never found them. You'll find out more about that and how I became a muse in just a few minutes. Maybe my story will give you some ideas for whatever that is you're working on.

I go by the name Sybil now, but when I was mortal my name was Rain Jennings. Yea, my parents were hippies. Look it up in your history book... datapad thing that's on your desk. Not my fault you didn't pay attention to your late 1900's history class. I was twenty-six when I met Pitch and the others.

Better hang on to that pencil, I'm about to tell you a story of how a mortal became a Muse, fell in love with the bad guy, and saved the world from Time and Death. Trust me, you won't find that on the datapad, Time's pretty good at resetting things.

So, this is how it began: It's a fall day in Virginia, stuck in a horrible math class and daydreaming like usual...

**Author's Note: **This is a new beginning to my previous story Daydreaming. The plot took a hard corner from the original plan and needed a new beginning and character to make it work. I'll try to salvage Daydreaming if I can.

I hope you enjoyed the rambling prologue and that you look forward to seeing more!


	2. Chapter 1: The Man in the Shadows

**Unnatural Daydreams**

Chapter 1: The Man in the Shadows

: Claret Amazon

_Virginia, 2011 AD_

Great War waged in the margins of lined paper. Entrenched algebra warded off the encroaching words that hovered at the borders of their territory. The opposing forces now watched the other from their roosts, gaining allies and reinforcements with every passing minute. Victims of the onslaught lay at the red fence, the great strokes of black slicing through curves and fortifications.

The favor seemed to lie with the numerals, but the words frenzied growth poised serious problems as they sought to enclose their enemies in a complete circle. Only a few more were needed to complete the campaign, the favored heroes, to throw their enemy into their dug out graves.

The black tip of their creator loomed overhead with the intent to bring the bloodshed to a close, growing closer and closer until suddenly…

"Rain Jennings!" The high-pitched shrill pierced the air and made the pen stutter in its application, the point dashing a dark line through its chosen words. "Are you paying attention?!"

The black and gold Foray fine-point was laid aside with a sigh of annoyance. "Yes, ma'm, I am." Rain leaned back in her chair, defiantly meeting the eyes of her teacher. College algebra and Mrs. Pusey could make anyone feel like they were back in High School. She was effectively the most hated teacher on the campus, by both students and other faculty members alike.

Mrs. Pusey, a crone of short stature and thin as a stalk figure with a hunched back, was an ugly old bat. Her face had been swallowed by wrinkles and all that remained seemed to be a thin mouth permanently curved into a sour scowl and beady blue eyes under bushy gray brows. Pepper and salt hair was pulled back into a severe bun that sat squarely on the back of her head, not one hair daring to move out of place. Completing the 'crotchety old lady look' was a faded brown dress with lace at the collar and wrists, which hung on her like a bag.

For all that she was a bitch; the woman was actually a genius when it came to Math. Rain had been put in her class because of her inability to pick it up and retain the tormenting information. The moment the two had met there had been genuine dislike. Now the brunette was her favorite student when it came to her special attention. If attention wandered for just one moment her name ripped through the air in Mrs. Pusey's bird-like shriek.

Rain stared right back at the woman, daring her to ask her up to the board. The white board was filled with the dancing figures of numerals, and their allies the symbols. From that board was where this little colony that bled on her notebook had spawned. Rain had no intention of betraying her words to multiply the numbers that Mrs. Pusey so aptly wielded.

Shoulders slumped in relief when the teacher turned back to the board. Only a few more minutes and this hell hole of a class would be over. She had only wished to take some History and Biology courses, subjects she excelled at, but had been forced to take the Algebra classes along with them. It didn't make any sense to her. This was a course she had failed repeatedly in school and was probably failing again here.

She left her words leaderless, trying to actually pay attention now. Such a task was a monumental undertaking as she found her attention drifting to the windows. Through the thick glass panes the world was a cacophony of colors. Trees had completed their wardrobe change, trading green for vibrant red, fiery orange, bright yellows. The sky itself was the perfect shade of cerulean accented with white horse tails and the earth below it was rich and dark brown where the gardeners had turned the soil and laid out fresh mulch.

Rain smiled, face softening as unbidden ideas came to mind. Stories played out under the foliage, unseen by any but her. An elderly couple holding hands and reminiscing on their lives together; an elven Prince sat at the feet of his father listening to his wisdom. Dark shadows watched the beings of light, using the guise of a perfect fall day to plan their cunning. A fall Dragon occupied the boughs above them, soaking up the sun and keeping a wary eye on the beasts below him.

The minutes ticked by as Rain enjoyed her fantasy world, spurring the battle on between elven kind and the shadows, narrated by the elderly Prince and his Queen-Consort. Just as the Fall Dragon was to throw his lot in with the elves it was time to leave. She was never more eager to leave then she was at that moment, even though a niggling voice reminded her that she was always eager to leave her math class.

Rain shoved all her books into her bag, bidding some of her classmate's goodbye as she darted out. The death glare of her teacher dug through her back as she walked. It felt like Mrs. Pusey was shoving her down the hall as her pace increased to a power walk and then into a jog. Hitting the doors she gave another sigh of relief, a common thing nowadays, and turned her face up to the sun. The warmth chased away the frustration of her classes and eased the weight of looming work and homework.

The young woman stood like that for a while, listening to her peers go about their business. No one paid her the least bit of attention and that was how she preferred it. Being by herself when surrounded by people she didn't know, living in the snatched daydreams of other worlds and other lives. With her eyes closed she could be anyone from a mighty and feared Queen, to a reluctant heroine, the seductress with the playing cards that told your luck, a silent observer that worked with the space-faring Captain to save the galaxy. It was hers, and hers alone, something never to be touched by another.

It was thrilling, exhilarating, terrifying and exceptionally lonely.

Rain opened her eyes, surveying the now empty courtyard of her College. The lack of activity rooted her in place, almost stunned. She could only stare for a few long minutes before she was propelled forward to take a seat at one of the tables. The chill of the corrugated metal was refreshing after soaking up the sun's rays and she smiled a little as her algebra notebook was retrieved from her bag. Each page was another bloody battle, paper crinkled from excessive handling. So many worlds resided in the margins of each page, inspired by a single word or a scent, sometimes by a shadow in the corner of her vision.

The pages were touched lovingly as she read each story. The last page held the newest war, the remnants of a shadowed sleeping story. Most called them nightmares, she called them her fantasies. Rain enjoyed all of them: the sweet dreams and the blood chilling phantasms. Each had their own place in her imagination.

She scrawled the rest across the back of the page, ticking away the minutes with remembrance and the struggle to find the right lexeme.

When the shadows had grown long and the sun turned to the horizon, she tucked the pen away. There, done, and maybe now it would stop tickling the back of her thoughts. Everything was packed back into her bag (the contents had exploded over the table as she wrote) so she could go home.

As she slipped the strap over her head she felt someone staring at her. Hair prickled on her scalp, her arms, back going ramrod straight. Rain moved woodenly, head bent to avoid whomever it was that was focused on her. This was one thing she absolutely hated, feared even, and tried to avoid like the plague. Her gut churned and clenched, a feeling of something ominous about to occur settling there. Such reactions had never proven her wrong in the past, often steering her away from dark alleys or uncomfortable meetings. Heeding the sensation, she power-walked towards the parking lot, trying to avoid whomever it was boring holes into her.

That only worked if they didn't plant themselves in her way though. With head down and concentrating on the ground underfoot she did not see the black form until she walked right into it.

"Hey!" She snapped, her fear swerving quickly to annoyance. "Watch it!"

The thing she had run into, a man, only stared down at her and seemed unimpressed by her admonition. He was almost statuesque, tall and rakishly thin. His clothing was all black, a simple trench coat over a turtleneck, pants and simple shoes. Skin was so pale as to touch gray over his high cheekbones and jawline, along the almost aquiline nose. Hair was just as black, almost unnaturally so and without the blue sheen such color garnered, swept back into seemingly careless spikes. The only ounce of color on him was his eyes; they were gold at the edges, fading into silver at their core. Their full weight was bearing down on her, making her feel as if she was nothing but an insect to him.

The brunette stared back, shocked silent. Her first thought was '_Goth_' and the second '_I want his eyes!_'. The third was more of awareness than a thought, akin to the one she'd had just seconds earlier. It felt almost magnetic, if a magnet could be wrapped in a layer of anxiety and distress.

They stayed that way, each breath counting the hands of the clock, until the man blinked with a peculiar look on his face. He seemed to be bewildered by her attention at first, the surprise slackening his features. Then he grinned, baring gray and crooked teeth. "You're Rain Jennings, aren't you? The one who can see me."

Her eyebrows shot up at his tone. Whoever this guy was he sounded very excited to be talking to her and that, in her book, labeled him a weird-o. Slightly flattering, but a weird-o. "Um… yea, I can see you. Why wouldn't I?" Rain glanced past him towards her car. Could she make it all the way out there without this guy catching her?

He laughed loudly, flinging his arms out as if he was going to hug her. "Finally! After all these years, a believer." The man laughed again, this time softer and pleased. "Finally…" The black-dressed man slumped over, arms hanging at his sides, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. His features drew down, as if he might cry.

The look on her face must have pierced through his odd euphoria because he straightened and gathered his composure. He cleared his throat, holding his hands behind his back. "Rain Jennings…"

"Yea, that just happens to be my name." Rain glanced past him again, wanting to run. Whoever this guy was he was watching her too intently for her to bolt and make it. Speaking of… "Who are you anyway?"

She couldn't help but roll her eyes when he seemed to preen a little bit, raking a hand over his mussed hair. A gothic peacock… He was definitely one of a kind.

"My name is Pitch Black. The Boogeyman, the Nightmare King." He grinned, eyes glinting at the proud display of his name, his title. The shadows seemed to writhe with his words, a strand of power rolling over his form, across her own. "The shadows under the bed, the monster in the closet."

"Riiight," Rain cocked her hip, crossing her arms over her chest. This guy, Pitch or whatever his name was, was definitely psycho. At that point she would have run but her gut told her to stay put. The magnetic aura in the air made her lean towards him with a silly smirk, a crazy scheme budding at the forefront of her intuition. "You're the Boogeyman… and I'm the Queen of England! But… if you're really the Boogeyman… prove it."

An adventure like this was one of her favorite daydreams, meeting someone who wasn't quite human and being whisked away into a world that wasn't this one.

Pitch seemed to study her for a moment. A slow, sly grin grew on his thin lips and he offered her a hand. "Very well."

* * *

And that was how I met the Nightmare King. Believe me; I didn't take him seriously for a while even after he proved who he was. After all, I was an adult, believing in superstitions wasn't exactly easy. Even if I did believe in things like Dragons and Ghosts it was two different realms to believe… and then to see. He was damn persistent however, and I eventually realized I did believe in him, always had. It was part of the view I had on life back then, something I'll explain later.

I won't bore you with what happened after that as life moved on even with Pitch Black visiting every other day. He very much enjoyed ruining my alone time after work or school. So I'll tell you next of the time I met Jack Frost and Sandman.

**Author's Note: **Here's the second installation of the story! Chapter 1, and it exceeded my expections in length: 2,221 words. My longest chapter to date! That's a pretty sad thing.

Thank you for reading my story and for the fav's/follows/review. I am more than open to anyones ideas and suggestions! Flames will be thrown in the pit with the Fearlings.


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